The TwiceBorn

Within The Spinning Of Worlds

'I move on the way a storm blows through; I never stay but then again,I might."--Chesney

Blixen raced back and forth across her shoulders as he stumbled through her hair and frantically waved good-bye. With a frustrated sigh, Alora paused long enough to untangle him from her mass of ringlets. Finally, she pulled him free and set him down behind her.

"Stay." She commanded then twisted back around in her saddle. She urged Alderon forward. He began to prance as the night hags keened and groveled around her in hopes of touching her with deferential hands but she ignored them.

Fingers skittered over her legs like spiders and she resisted the urge to kick out at them. And she didn't know why. They were thralls, with their own ability to command a small part of the UnderRealms but still, enslaved thralls to those over them. Like her.

He is as you are now.

If she only knew what that was. Abigor's angry eyes twisted the length of her spine and Yzebel's hatred rippled through her but she ignored them both as she concentrated on sitting straight in the saddle and moving as little as possible.

The wound in her side had closed but it didn't feel right. It never felt healed. It always reminded her,uneasily, of a chicken's egg. A fragile coating that held everything in to the best of its ability. The etching that serpentined across her body was so delicate it made the area even more fragile in her mind's eye and on the days the ache was so deep it drove into her bones she wondered if everything was just going to split open and spill on the ground.

She waited until she was deep into the comfort of the woods before pulling Alderon up. She sagged forward, her breath harsh, as her hand stole up and found its familiar perch against her side.

"Alora?"

Blixen's voice was uncharacteristically soft.

And...was that a touch of concern?

"What?" She asked, her teeth gritted together as she attempted to sit up.

"Can I ride on your shoulder for awhile? And where are we going? It'll be dark soon. When are we gonna eat?"

"Shut-up," She snapped. "And don't worry; I'm fine."

Alora straightened up in the saddle, her face a dirty white in the waning sun. She had good days and bad days. On good days, the wound only itched and burned and it was easier to move about. On bad days though, every breath was an effort. The climb onto Alderson had cost her and that wasn't even taking into account the fancy hanging from the saddle trick she'd tried. Blixen's company was going to be like splitting the wound back open and pouring in salt for good measure.

"You can ride can't you?"

Blixen's grating squeak took on a concerned tone as he raced up her back and perched on her shoulder.

""We won't have to turn around and go back will we?"